


I Don't Know The Words To This Song

by PastelWonder



Category: Modern Family (TV)
Genre: M/M, New Relationship, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 03:03:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5727298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelWonder/pseuds/PastelWonder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the best things in life are the hardest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Don't Know The Words To This Song

Mitchell clears his throat, feeling heat rising out of the neck of his dress shirt. He tugs delicately at the knot of his tie and keeps his eyes on his water glass.

 

"I don't think this is working…" he starts nervously, a sick feeling dropping through his stomach.

 

"What?" Claire manages around a mouthful of wedge salad, and glances up in time to see his uncomfortable frown. "You mean your tie?" She points with her fork.

 

"No!" He sighs and gingerly smooths his eyebrows with his thumb. "I mean-" he glances around, and not finding a way out of this conversation, continues. "I mean I don't think this is working with Cameron."

 

He re-arranges his napkin on his lap, and clarifies, "I don't think Cam and I are working."

 

"What?" Claire is stunned; she shakes her head once, twice. "Wait, why?" She leans into the table, into their conversation.

 

_If anyone will understand…_

 

He tracks a line of condensation down his water glass with his index finger and the sick feeling slips through him again. "We're just- we're too different. He's all about the country and music and drama-" He holds his breath, chances a glance at Claire, who isn't blinking, and let's the rest out in a rush. "It's getting messy, Claire. He calls all the time, he's over all the time- we have sex all the time. And then in the mornings he's there, and we're eating breakfast and making coffee and ... It's too much. It's too much too soon."

 

He wraps his hand around his water glass to take a drink, but his arm's too heavy to lift, so he sits there and lets the drops of water slide between his palm and the glass. He feels like he's spinning, and he reminds himself he's right there, with Claire.

 

"I can't do this- I feel out of control," he murmurs.

 

Claire sits back in her chair with a thud, eyes glued to Mitchell's face. For a second she's quiet, and then she's leaning forward again. "Are you kidding me?" she hisses, and Mitchell actually flinches.

 

Claire recoils, making herself small and dainty in her chair, and in a high-pitched voice, she mocks, "Help me, Claire! I'm in love and I'm happy and I don't know what to do. You have to help me!"

 

"I'm not happy, I'm miserable!" He doesn’t mean to shout, and he wonders at the way he's been blurting things out lately.

 

Like, _Oh, I was hoping you'd stay_ and _You're adorable when you're miffed_ and _I'm in love with you._

 

Thinking about that last one makes him feels that sick sliding feeling again, so he decides to get angry. "Do you think I want to feel like this?" he hisses, and both he and Claire are surprised this time.

 

"Like what?" she asks seriously, leaning forward a little again.

 

"I feel sick; I'm so in love I'm sick. And Cameron? Cam's in love all the time. With everyone, with everything. He breathes love, he shits love. You know what I shit? Anxiety, insecurity - that's what." He makes wide fluttering gestures with his arms and mimics in a simpering voice, "Just let go and love, Mitch. Go with the flow, Mitch. Follow your fucking heart, Mitch." Then he's bitter again, and just where that bitterness is coming from he doesn't know. "It's not in me, Claire. It's not who I am. I'm not built like that."

 

_And he's going to find out. He's going to find out I'm broken and I don't love like normal people._

 

Mitchell wants to rewind, to erase this conversation, this lunch, this month.

 

Claire is silent, elbow propped on the table, chewing lightly at her thumbnail. Finally, she says quietly, "This is about Mom and Dad, isn't it-"

 

"No no-"

 

"Yes." She nods. "It is. You think because their marriage failed-"

 

"Failed, Claire?" he snorts, snippets from their blowouts and rage fits and rehab stints flashing through his mind. "That's the understatement of the century. Try, Crashed and burned. Or, World War Three. Or, The Rapture-"

 

"Ok, Mitchell- Mitchell, listen to me: it's tough. I know it's tough." At his eye roll, she holds out her hand. "Have you met Phil? He believes in love-at-first-sight, and soul mates, and just- Oh! Ok, here's a perfect example! He said he knew he was going to marry me in the first fifteen seconds of meeting me." She throws her hands up in the air and makes a face, _What!_ "The first _fifteen_ seconds? Come on!"

 

Mitchell fights a smile. He can picture Phil saying that - believing that - perfectly. "Ok. What's your point?"

 

"My point is," she sits back and folds her arms over her chest. "Some-times... you and I get a little... hopeless. And maybe someone who's-"

 

"Out of touch with the stark reality?" he offers with a self-deprecating twitch of his lips, watching his fingers clear a path through the condensation as they trail down his glass.

 

"Your words, not mine." But she nods like, _Fair enough_. "Sometimes we need that person to show us that life is not always so... sad." She says the last word quietly, almost to herself, with a look that reminds him no matter how much she may pretend, she's been rankled as badly as he has.

 

He thinks about the way Cameron looked three days ago, his face smooth and peaceful so close to Mitchell's, his soft, warm body curled into him as they slept.

 

He shrugs, sitting back in his chair and wiping his hand carefully on his napkin. "Maybe."

 

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

"Mitchell!" Cameron greets him with a dazzling smile, stepping aside and making a grand sweeping motion for Mitchell to come in. "This is a surprise!"

 

His tone is overly-bright, and Mitchell can't help wincing a little at the guilt (and the pitch) as he steps inside the apartment, mumbling, "I probably should have called-"

 

"No, no!" Cameron's hands clasp in front of him as he gives Mitchell another thousand-watt smile. Mitchell doesn't miss the way they wring lightly as he shuts the door behind him. "I hadn't heard from you in a few days and I thought-" He waves his hand. "Silly me! You were probably busy with work..."

 

"I was thinking about what I said-" Mitchell starts, and the way the smile slips off Cameron's face, the way his shoulders stoop forward, as if his worst fears are about to come true, pinches Mitchell in the sternum.

 

He rushes to take Cameron's large hands in his own - _always so warm_ \- and looks into his eyes as he says, "I meant it." 

**Author's Note:**

> Your comments and kudos are always appreciated.


End file.
